Nobody Ever Became A Writer Just By

Smoking Had Come To Be An Important Punctuation Mark In The Long Sentence Of A Day On The Road.

It Was Only A Sunny Smile, And Little It Cost In The Giving, But Like Morning Light It Scattered The Night And Made The Day Worth Living.

She Was A Faded But Still Lovely Woman Of Twenty-seven.

What Was The Use Of Doing Great Things If I Could Have A Better Time Telling Her What I Was Going To Do?

The Water Reached Up For Her, Pulled Her Down Tenderly Out Of The Heat, Seeped In Her Hair And Ran Into The Corners Of Her Body. She Turned Round And Round In It, Embracing It, Wallowing In It.